


Soul Aspiring

by Stone_Princess



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Foreign Language, Language Kink, M/M, Religious Themes & References, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-04
Updated: 2003-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-26 08:17:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stone_Princess/pseuds/Stone_Princess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a cliché fic challenge: two people, one bed in a hotel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul Aspiring

**Author's Note:**

> For Joyfulgirl because she asked, no DEMANDED it. Thanks to Katkim, Joyfulgirl, and the astounding Velvetglove for betaing, hand holding and audiencing.

"Who ya prayin' to, Murph? Saint Dymphna?" Connor teased as he sat back in the room's one chair and cracked a beer.

" _Do chorp don diabhal!_ Don't you have respect enough not to interrupt a man at prayer?" Murph didn't even turn to acknowledge Connor, he stayed where he was: kneeling on the floor, the rosary that matched Connor's clutched in his hands. His eyes were closed against the faint light that came through the curtains.

Connor watched as Murphy's lips moved gently, although he couldn't hear the words, he knew them by heart:

 _Being more closely united to Christ,  
those who dwell in heaven fix  
the whole Church moire firmly in holiness  
They do not cease to intercede..._

Murph's eyebrows creased down just a little, his face full of the import of his actions. Even as child Murph had taken intercession very seriously. Connor wanted to intrude, knew the next time he confessed he'd have to ask for forgiveness for wanting the attention that his brother gave to God.

When Murph finished, he crossed the small room and fetched his own beer, as Connor still watched, waiting for the attention to be turned on him.

Unable to wait, Connor taunted, "So who was it tonight, brother? Michael the Archangel to help us in battle? St. Barbara to keep our guns in order? Perhaps you're in doubt and needed Thomas the Apostle?"

Murph stared at his brother, lighting a cigarette and downing half his beer before answering.

"Brigid," was all he said before turning away, to sit on the edge of the small bed and swallow the rest of his beer in silence.

Brigid was for fugitives and travelers. Brigid was for Ireland. Brigid was the one God could refuse nothing to, the best to ask for complicated favors.

They drank in silence, nearly finishing the 12-pack. Connor let his mind wander, to be anywhere but this room now would be good. More of a monk's cell really, than a motel room. The only place they could find in this feral countryside that would take cash and not ask for ID. A room above a dank road house, the scent of spilled beer and thrum of music coming faintly through the floor.

Connor thought of Ireland. Home. Green and clean smelling next to this foul place. Murphy's voice brought him back to the grubby room.

"Perhaps it should have been Dymphna after all?" Murph's voice was filled with something dark, deep.

"Feeling a little insane are we?" Connor smiled trying to lighten the heavy feeling settling over the room.

Again Murphy just stared back at his brother, but this time there was a glint in his eye that told Connor perhaps they'd both had too much to drink. Not knowing what to do, Connor opened another beer and tossed the last one to Murph, whose stare was becoming unnerving.

Murph's gaze never faltered and he quickly killed his beer and smoked another cigarette. Standing, he pitched the can onto the small table, sending three other empties skittering to the floor. He pulled off his shirt and lay back on the bed. His eyes found Connor's again.

"And where will you sleep, brother? There's only the one bed here. Is that chair comfortable?" Murph's lips twisted into a smirk, but his tone was full of other meaning. Meaning that burned through Connor.

Connor didn't answer. He knew how this night would end.

The false smirk on Murph's lips twisted into satisfaction as Connor stood at the end of the bed and undressed. Connor tried not to think as first his t-shirt and then his jeans hit the solitary chair. Red plaid boxers sat low on his hips, doing nothing to conceal his arousal as he slid down on to the bed next to Murphy.

Connor tried to be still as his brother's fingers traced over the planes of his chest. Hungry, seeking fingers, stroking over his thighs, teasing into the waistband of his shorts only to pull back too soon to tickle through his hair and down his neck.

Swallowing his guilt, Connor relaxed into the touch. Murph said it was black and white, it couldn't be wrong when it felt so right, and if it was, God forgave small transgressions against their immortal souls; that's what confession was for. But Connor doubted, and he'd never confessed this. He'd kept the sin locked in his heart, luxuriating in it, in the attention and focus Murphy turned on him only in these close moments.

No, Connor couldn't ask for forgiveness for wanting his own brother like this. It didn't matter; having Murphy look at him the way he was now, was worth it. And could Hell really be any worse than all the hours of all the days when he didn't have this?

Panting under the ministrations of Murph's hands, Connor lost himself in his brother's words. Endearments in every language they knew, tiny prayers of worship to Connor's body. The whispers tickled Connor's ear, teased him to excitement like the hands that touched him everywhere but where he wanted them most.

" _J'adore te toucher._ " Murph licked the edge of Connor's ear to punctuate each sibilant word. His hands proved the words true, pressing tighter against Connor's heated skin. Arching into the touch Connor shivered as Murph's lips found their next target.

His nipples hardened fast, painfully, as Murph bit and worried at them. Smoothing his palms over Connor's reddened nipples to soothe them, Murphy sat up.

" _Cosi bello_ ," he murmured, straddling Connor's thighs just a little too low to give any satisfaction. The rough denim of Murph's jeans grated over skin made too sensitive with light touches.

Leaning down, Murph pressed his face into Connor's neck and inhaled deeply, sending twisting explosions of pleasure down Connor's spine. Connor bucked up as teeth raked over his collarbone. His cock was leaking, dampening the fabric that trapped it. He bucked up again, desperate for contact, but he met only air as Murph curved his body away from Connor's thrusts.

Murph slid down Connor's body, catching his brother's eye just before he ducked his head to suck at the spreading wetness on the front of Connor's shorts.

A choked sob broke from Connor's throat as he reached for Murph's head, desperate to keep the contact.

" _Sapis caeli_." The words vibrated over Connor's stomach, as Murph lifted Connor's hips to pull off the boxers. Murph ducked his head again, lips reaching for Connor's hard length.

But they never made contact.

His cruel brother looked back up, catching Connor's eye.

"Tell me you want this," Murph said, his voice hoarse. "Tell me what you want."

Connor flopped back hard on to the thin pillow. He took a deep breath, keenly aware of the pounding of his heart, he could feel his brother's pulse against his, a comforting rhythm.

" _Quiero que estes dentro de mi_ ," Connor murmured, finding safety in lilt of Spanish.

Murph pushed up over him, pressing his chest to Connor's, his cock hot even through the stiff fabric of his jeans. He settled slowly, rocking over Conner's naked body, pushing down on Connor's hips just enough to make them move. And then it stopped. Murph's hand caught Connor's jaw, their eyes locked together.

"Tell me in English," he said. "I want to hear it. To know you mean it."

"I want you in me," Connor answered, feeling defiant, knowing there was no going back. He bucked his hips up and reached to pull Murph to him.

Murph pushed him back and stood to rapidly shuck his jeans. The action was a blur. Murph wore nothing underneath his jeans. There was nothing between him and his brother now.

The whole of Connor's being was seared as Murph pressed against him, hands now frantic, pulling, and scratching for as much skin as they could cover. Murph's mouth finally claimed the last bit of Connor's soul and he gave himself over completely.

Biting and sucking at the hollow of Murph throat, Connor was gratified to finally hear panting that wasn't his own.

Murph reached between them, his hand heated and damp as he grasped both their cocks and pulled them roughly together. His rhythm was unsteady as he jacked them. It was too hard, too dry, the sweat of his brother's palm wasn't enough.

"More," Connor didn't hear the words as he said them, only felt the scratch and tremor of them, "please."

Murph's whole body slammed down hard on Connor, his teeth splitting Connor's lip as their mouths met.

The kiss was deep, intense. White light coiled at the base of Connor's spine, making his balls drawn up, and it was going to be soon. He pulled back, trying to see his brother's face.

The white light exploded in his head and Murph smiled down at him, lips stained red and smeared with Connor's blood. As the aftershocks shook through Connor, Murph kissed wine-dark stains down his stomach. He pushed his hand into the hot sticky puddle of Connor's come and slicked it over his own cock. Gathering the rest quickly, he pushed Connor's knees apart with his clean hand and slicked the warm semen over Connor's dark pucker. Connor cried out as a finger slid in too fast. The air around them seemed to glow with the heated haze they created in the stifling room.

Connor tried to breathe as a second finger stretched him too far. He knew he whimpered, he wished for more lube, more time, more anything to postpone the pain that was sure to follow.

The blunt head of Murph's cock pushed persistently and Connor tried to wiggle up the bed, away from it but his brother's come-sticky hand clamped his shoulder and pulled him down.

The breach of the first ring of muscle broke Connor. It tore at him, made him want to cry, to push Murph away, to pull him closer, to beg for more.

" _Mon dieu, c'est bon. Tellement chaud_ ," Murph moaned. Connor could feel him hold back, feel the tension shimmering through Murph as he held rigidly still, letting his brother get used to being so completely filled.

" _Sie bitte...wunschen..._ " Connor begged, he wanted it now, more, _all_ of Murphy.

Murph began to move slowly, too slowly. Taking away more of Connor with him every time he pulled out, giving more of himself back every time he pushed in. It was ecstasy in the truest sense, complete devotion, giving of oneself to something higher. Something sacred.

Murph's words became nonsense as he sped up and Connor encouraged him now. Using Murphy's ass for leverage, Connor tried to pull his brother farther into him. Tipping his hips up he tried to match Murph's strokes.

He looked up to see the angel face of his brother twisted in fervor of the moment, his lips dripping blood down onto Connor as Murph bit them to keep his cries in. Craning his neck painfully, Connor reached to lick at the blood baptising him from above. Drops fell to his lips before his tongue got there.

He reached a hand around the back of Murph's neck, holding them together as Murph thrusted wildly.

" _Vente ya_ ," Connor whispered as Murph's breathing and pace become frantic, "Come for me, brother. I want it."

Murph broke, whimpering Connor's name, making sound more holy than any saint or angel.

Connor held fast, feeling every shudder, every wave of pleasure pass through his brother and into him.

" _Salus me_ ," Connor said softly as Murphy tucked his head again his brother's chest, his breathing rapid, his heart pounding.

" _I'm_ your salvation?" Murph chuckled in response. "Perhaps Saint Brigid isn't for us after all."

"Who then?" Connor kissed the top of his brother's head.

"Mary Magdalene," Connor could hear the smile in Murph's voice. "She is the sinner who sought out pardon from the Lord as we shall too."

Connor didn't need pardon, he had everything he needed in this room. He didn't think he'd said that out loud but the last thing he heard, before he drifted off was Murph whispering:

"Your soul and mine, we share it, I'll protect it for both of us."

~finis~

* * *

 _The soul aspiring pants its source to mount,  
As streams meander level with their fount._  
Robert Montgomery (1807–1855), The Omnipresence of the Deity. Part I.

 

Do chorp don diabhal! (Your body to the devil) Gaelic  
Salus me (You're my salvation) Latin  
¡Vente ya! (Come! [for me, right now]) Spanish  
Mon dieu, c'est bon. Tellement chaud (Oh god, it's good. Really hot.) French  
Sie bitte...wunschen... (Please...want...) German  
Quiero que estes dentro de mí (I want you [to be] inside me) Spanish  
Sapis caeli (You taste like heaven/the sky) Latin  
Cosi bello (so beautiful) Italian  
J'adore te toucher (I love to touch you) French  



End file.
